Runner, Runner
by WriteTurn
Summary: It's the year 2045, and the Brotherhood has resurfaced. Adair, Alpha team's Runner, still has some struggles to go through on her path to becoming a Master Assassin.
1. Give Chase

This was disgusting. Adair had never wanted to vomit this much before, with the churning liquid in her stomach. How was she expected to run now? It tasted awful, sweetened cream with a thick, fake pumpkin scent and flavoring.  
Nevertheless she sipped the coffee anyway, struggling not to reflect her displeasure on her face. Any minute, now. C'mon. She gazed upward, looking at the top of a very tall hotel building. There her partner stood, watching over the city. He signaled with his arm, telling her to move into position.  
"He's in the gray suit," Thatcher's voice came through her earpiece, ringing clear.  
"There's a lot of gray suits." Adair retorted in annoyance.  
"He's the brown haired man in the gray suit, with the blue folder in hand."  
Adair scanned the crowd. "Where?!"  
"Moving east."  
East? She was facing west. "Behind me?"  
"Where are you?"  
"Facing Kennedy West like you told me to!"  
"Well, he's behind you now. Get moving."  
Adair turned and saw her target immediately. He was passing by seemingly casually, although he was flicking his eyes nervously. She advanced, positioning herself behind him, dumping the coffee into the nearest garbage bin. Keeping a steady pace was key now, and to slowly approach without arousing suspicion. All was going well, until just ahead of her from her left, a mob of people began to move in a most peculiar manner. But Adair had no time to ponder this, for her target had just bolted away. She hissed a curse under her breath and sprinted forward.  
She stretched her legs out at their full capacity, loping elegantly as well as efficiently. Her overcoat billowing behind her, she felt like she was flying. Her steps were light and paced to her heartbeat, a rhythm she knew well. Adair was grinning now, the wind in her hair, muffling her hearing. Her vision blurred around the sides, but never lost her target. She was closing now, ready to tackle-and something flew past her, a brilliant flash of red- and tackled her target before she could even bat an eye.  
Only then did Adair hear the screaming of Thatcher in her earpiece, colorful language and all. She planted her feet to the ground, halting herself. Her overcoat enveloped her, her eyes blazing, her teeth grit, face red, hands fisted - there was Bellona, planting her hidden blade in the target's back.


	2. Prologue

In the year 2025, William Miles revitalized a new unit of Assassins. He created a safe haven located in Pittsburgh, all for young recruits. They all trained there, hidden away with another building. However, that wasn't all. William also managed quite a scientific feat.  
Using old Animus software and files relating to the memories of his ancestors, William was able to collect enough data to re-animate the long dead assassins. They were more hologram than human, and had to remain close to the computer hosting them, but they were sentient, could recollect their old memories, and interact with other beings. They could walk around at will and speak their minds. It truly was a great asset to the Brotherhood, and because of that, very well guarded. The recruits and the ancestors acted for the most part as family aside from teachers and students, and with the small team of humans actually operating the unit, it was indeed a closely knit family.


	3. Consequences

Adair stormed into the lobby of the Brotherhood's building, dubbed 'Masyaf' by the students. ACE Bar and Lounge was what the rest of the world knew it to be. It was a lively place, but with extremely high security. Adair chewed on her lip as she passed the guards, then hissed the password to the bartender. She gained her access and passed through. She entered the dimly lit carpeted, cramped hallway and pulled off her gloves, shoving them into her coat pockets. Then, she rounded the corner into the main hall, where she found Bellona talking casually to, of course, Master Assassin Altaïr Ibn-la'Ahad. Adair opened her mouth, fishing around for the right words to use, when out of no where, Thatcher appeared and unleashed his fury.  
"YOU!" He cried, pulling Bellona to him. "I don't know what the fuck that stunt you pulled back there was, but let-me-tell-you if you do so once more, I'll single-handedly beat your miserable-"  
"-Order!" Altaïr shouted, standing between the two. Thatcher stepped back. AltaÏr glanced to him. "What is this banter for?"  
"I'LL tell you," snarled Adair from the entrance. "She sabotaged our mission." She looked to Thatcher, who raised his head in recognition.  
"How so?" Altaïr questioned.  
"It's not my fault you didn't get your job done," Bellona sneered to Adair.  
"It would have been if you hadn't jumped in," Adair retorted. "Master, I'll have you know I was stalking our target, when for no reason, Bellona darted in, spooking our victiim and making him run when I could have just stolen the files and ran."  
"She was NOT assigned to this mission," Thatcher reinforced. "Meaning she abandoned her objective to claim ours!"  
"I got it done," Bellona protested. "I finished mine and cleaned yours up too."  
"Nevertheless, she meddled with us," Adair said, straightening her back. "Master, she compromised the mission. She is a Backup. Aside from her leaving her designated place, she performed an action meant for a Runner."  
Altaïr gazed dully to Bellona. "You and I will talk further. First, what of our target?"  
"Locked away in the cells. I sedated him peacefully, as our code demands."  
"Our code demands we do not harm the innocent," Thatcher murmured.  
"Adair, Thatcher, leave us," Altaïr dismissed the two.  
The duo turned on their heels and left.  
"He better do us justice," Thatcher growled.  
"He will," Adair replied, removing her overcoat. "He's sensible."  
"I don't know what she was thinking," Thatcher stewed, his steps heavy. "She better get some form if punishment for this."


	4. Before The Storm

ONE YEAR BEFORE

Adair sat by herself in the ACE Bar and Lounge. It was closed down to visitors, allowing the members of the Brotherhood free reign. It was 2am, quiet except for the city outside.  
"Another."  
"I said 'another'."  
"I don't think so."  
Adair lifted her head. Edward Kenway held the bottle of vodka firmly beside him.  
"I'm sorry?"  
"I said no. Doing you a favor, Adair."  
"Damn it, Kenway, let me drink. I need it."  
Edward put the bottle away.  
"Fine. I'll just go to bed, then." She lifted herself up, head hanging. When she tried to step forward, she stumbled. How could this be? Her steps were always reliable. Was she drunk? Did she really have enough to become drunk?  
She collapsed to the ground, clutching the bar, but then let herself fall to the floor. "I hate myself."  
Edward walked around the bar to her. "It will be all right." He sat down next to her. "I understand what it is like to lose someone. All of us here do."  
"What about killing that someone?"  
Edward fell silent. He met her eyes, then stood. This was not the time nor the place to discuss Adair's predicament. "I'm sorry," he spoke, then left her. Adair sneered callously behind his back. She didn't feel like standing up.  
-


	5. Training

Adair woke to the sound of rain hitting her window. She sighed. Apparently, it wasn't cold enough to snow. She checked her alarm clock and groaned, knowing she had slept in late. She wasn't young anymore, she could do as she pleased with no schedule, but she knew she needed to maintain her routine. And so she got up and dressed, ran a brush through her hair and exited her room.  
The training center had everything, from obstacles to a full parkour course, rafter jumping to a tower for practicing the traditional Leap of Faith. While these were all fantastic assets Adair knew she should practice on more often, she was first going to visit the track, which encompassed the whole training arena. There she met Webster, a fellow Runner for team Gamma.  
Team Gamma was the lowest of the three ranks, but they still performed relatively well. Webster, in Adair's opinion, was fit for team Beta, but was placed lower instead. Team Beta housed some of the snobbier bunch of Assassins. Bellona used to belong there, but was demoted. From Adair's frequent runs with Webster, she understood that she made their lives hell on missions. Beta's Runner, Elizabeth, who sometimes ran with Adair and Webster, constantly argued on Bellona's behalf, saying they were too harsh on her potential. Adair then took great joy in sprinting ahead of her, infuriating the adolescent recruit.  
But, Elizabeth wasn't here this month, as the Beta team were in Arizona, aiding another cell with the Frye twins. So, Adair and Webster enjoyed their moments of peace without her.  
"Hey," Adair greeted Webster as he stretched. She dropped her towel on the bench and twisted her torso.  
"You're a bit late," Webster said. "I've already run twice, and I slept in."  
"Quiet without Elizabeth, is it?"  
"As much as I hate to admit it, yeah, it is."  
"Well then. Let's not delay..." Adair grinned, performing two deep lunges for each leg, then twisting again. She didn't wait any longer and stood in her lane. Webster smiled back, lining up beside her. He chuckled. "You sure you wanna do this? I'm already warmed up, you know."  
"Oh please," Adair leaned down, ready to sprint. Webster set himself too.  
"Ready?"  
With no response, Adair pushed off. She started at an even pace, knowing Webster was still right beside her. She moved a bit faster, Webster still parallel.  
"I didn't know until today that Bellona had run away from us to join you," he said.  
"I thought you would have noticed her absence immediately," Adair replied.  
"Oh, we did. Jess, especially. She was furious. I've never seen someone execute such a rushed Leap of Faith. At least she lived to tell Ezio about Bellona's misdeeds."  
Webster was setting the pace now, just strides ahead of hers.  
"Thatcher was pissed. After the little stunt she pulled, I had to take out my earpiece, he was screaming so loud."  
"Where is she now?" Webster asked.  
"I thought you would know," Adair said. "She's in your team."  
"Haven't seen her all day."  
"Hm." Adair scanned the training room. There was hardly anyone around. Jessica, Gamma's Scout was teaching young recruits how to perform the Leap of Faith. At the base of the tower, Master Assassins AltaÏr and Ezio were watching. As she ran further, she saw Thatcher practicing on another tower, with Arno Dorian giving criticism as he climbed. Aside from a few smatterings of Master Assassins, there were no other people.  
"No sign of her that I can see," Adair stated. "This is a good thing, of course."  
The two sprinted longer, keeping perfect pace.  
"Tired yet?" Webster questioned on their fifth lap.  
"I believe you have mistaken me for someone else," Adair replied through grit teeth. She was not giving in, although she was tiring. Webster laughed, and Adair noticed a wheezing in his voice. It was taking its toll on him, too. Neither of them had sprinted this far together.  
Eventually Webster fell behind, his steps slowing to a stop. Adair was about to celebrate her victory when another contender swept in from her left. Bellona?  
No, she knew that feeling anywhere. One of the Master Assassins, their hologram-like bodies crackling with energy. They were not flesh, rather humanoid beings of densely pack atoms, yet still they gave off heat and were capable of tiring. Which, Adair knew, she would have to attempt to do. Because not only was this Assassin just starting to run, but this Assassin was Arno Dorian, who had every intention of pushing her to her limits.  
"You're not gonna make this easy, are you?" Adair spat, huffing intensely.  
"Of course not." Arno lengthened his strides, moving ahead of her.  
"What about Thatcher?"  
"He can handle himself. Hurry up." Arno was now three lengths ahead.  
"I-can't," Adair panted. "You know I've been running all day."  
"You can do it."  
"Arno, this isn't funny, damn it," she wheezed, putting forth more effort to move. She closed in by half a length. "You're going to kill me!"  
"Then don't push yourself too hard."  
"Agh!" Adair collapsed, her heart pumping so hard and fast it caused her pain. She hit the ground, scuffing her knees and right shoulder. Arno stood next to her, then knelt, putting a finger to her neck. Adair coughed and hissed as he did so, but allowed him to. "What's the diagnosis?" she growled.  
"Cool down, you'll be fine. Come along, get up." He put a hand under her arm and pulled her up. He wasn't sturdy, only about half of his normal mass. But she lifted herself up beside him and he helped her walk the track.  
"You didn't have to beat me, you know," he said.  
"You shouldn't have taunted me." Adair panted.  
"Do not feel as though you must chase everything. If you do, you will lose sight of what is important."  
"Getting philosophical now, are we?" Adair replied.  
"How do you feel?"  
"Tired and annoyed."  
"Good. Remember that feeling."


	6. Rafter Reflections

"I still don't see why he did that." Adair wiped her face. By her side were Thatcher and Webster. "He knew I would chase him. For years he trained me to exceed my boundaries. Does he expect me to just forget all of that?"  
"Well, now you know not to do that again." Thatcher handed her a water bottle.  
"Next time he'll probably be disappointed I didn't go after him."  
"It's still for your own good." Webster shoved his foot into the track, scuffing his shoe.  
"Oh boy," Thatcher stiffened. "Take a look, Addy."  
Adair lifted her head, and saw Ezio engaged in a heated debate with Bellona, who was screaming loudly in his face.  
Adair sighed. "What now?" She stood up, wobbling across the training arena.  
"The prisoner was released? Why?" Bellona was shouting.  
"He was not released, he was killed!" Ezio screamed back. "It was because of you. Do not twist my words with your misperception. He was innocent, just carrying files. And since he was here, his life needed to be taken."  
"Isn't it in our code not to harm the innocent?"  
"I don't know, Bellona. Why don't you tell us since you were the one that intercepted him?" Adair scowled, approaching.  
"Adair. Leave us, this is none of your concern," Ezio lifted his hand in an effort to stop her, but she pushed through.  
"I disagree, considering it was my mission and I was the closest witness," Adair challenged the Master Assassin. "I think Bellona needs a stronger punishment than what you assigned her, if anything at all."  
"Adair. Step down," Altaïr approached the group, putting a hand to her shoulder. Adair considered defiance, but her respect for AltaÏr won over. She backed away. Bellona continued to bicker against the two assassins, words echoing off the chambers of the training arena.

Ratonhnhake:ton watched Adair leave the group, observing the interactions carefully. He was sitting up in the rafters of the arena, in a quiet spot, overlooking everyone and everything with a bird's eye view. He wished there was no fighting, as nothing good ever came of it. But at the same time, it also added life to the Brotherhood. Nothing exciting ever happened, just planning and reports. He wouldn't care so much except he could not go outside, or at least, not very far. So, the current drama occurring between Alpha team and Gamma team were entertaining.  
It confused him. Bellona was always volatile, walking her own path and challenging anyone in her way. It was why Edward favored her from the beginning. She had life to her. But Adair? Adair never asked for violence. Of course, she did have a reason to be annoyed, Bellona had overstepped her bounds. But why was she so wounded by this? It was over. Didn't anyone understand that?  
A soft scrambling caught Ratonhnhake:ton's attention. He turned and found Arno lifting himself on to the rafter beside him.  
"Your great granddaughter is causing some trouble," Ratonhnhake:ton commented.  
"Bellona doesn't belong in my bloodline, she's in yours." Arno countered. "Nice view up here. I see why it draws to you." He craned his neck, looking downward.  
"Only by a quarter of one my descendants does she have Kenway blood," Ratonhnhake:ton scowled. "What was going on down there?"  
"My great granddaughter decided she didn't like her kill being stolen."  
"Our great granddaughter."  
"Please. She's more on my side than yours."  
"Why, because her father is a direct descendant of you?"  
"Partially."  
"She's half Kenway, half Dorian. Settled?"  
"She's half Dorian, half Kenway, agreed?"  
Ratonhnhake:ton sighed, reflecting on the pettiness of the conversation. "Agreed."  
They watched as Bellona stormed away from the two Assassins.  
"It's not good for them, you know," Ratonhnhake:ton said. "To be so divided."  
Arno nodded. "Of course."  
"They are young. I don't think they see the harm in their separation. It never leads to good outcomes."  
"You mean your father."  
"I mean isolation leads to betrayal," Ratonhnhake:ton replied firmly.  
"And we don't want that."  
"No, we do not."


	7. Catching Up

Adair spent her night at the ACE Bar and Lounge with Thatcher and Edward, going over her eventful day. She found it soothing, and it seemed to create a sort of comfort for her.  
"I still don't understand why Arno tried to kill me," Adair said, and Edward laughed.  
"You see, we deceased are having a contest to prove whose descendant is the strongest. He's trying to make a point," he teased.  
"He wouldn't be winning that contest if I were dead," Adair chuckled.  
"And speaking of descendants," Thatcher refilled his glass, "What about the new recruits?"  
"Who knows. We only ever see them, like, once every six months." Adair poured her fill too.  
"Been three years and no one ever got added to the teams."  
"I detect a conspiracy," Adair grinned.  
"I heard there was a slight interference during practice," Edward encouraged. "Involving Bellona and you."  
"I shouldn't have even stepped in. It wasn't really my problem."  
"You did, though."  
Adair took a sip of her drink, then responded. "She deserves some form of reprimanding."  
"Leave it to Altaïr and Ezio, Addy." Thatcher said. "Don't get too involved."  
Edward, who was in the middle of preparing himself a drink, went still. His eyes stared past Adair, and with extremely quick reflexes, he pulled a gun from under the bar and pointed it over Adair's shoulder.  
"It's just me!" Webster cried from the shadows. "It's just me."  
"Webster? What is it?" Adair turned and addressed him.  
"Thought I'd be welcome to have a few drinks," he grinned slightly, approaching.  
"Yeah, you are..." Adair trailed off, watching him as he pulled a barstool up and take a seat. "You can put the gun down now, Eddy," Adair murmured, and Edward lowered the weapon.  
"Altaïr wanted me to come and get you," Webster told Adair as he helped himself to a beer. "Not sure why. Probably because of your little fiasco."  
Adair snickered, but stopped when she saw that Webster wasn't laughing. In fact, his eyes were cold and steely, like he had been offended.  
"What's up?" Adair asked him.  
"What do you mean?"  
"I imagine if you arrive here at the bar late at night in a angered mood, something must have happened."  
"I'm fine." Webster scowled. "Just a little frustrated."  
"Yeah, Altaïr can be a prick sometimes, can't he?" Thatcher quipped, then took a long drink.  
"Excuse me?" Webster snarled.  
Thatcher set his glass down. "I'm just saying, he must be hard on you, with you being his descendant...like how Ezio is hard on me, and how Arno is on Adair. Because, y'know, he's, like, the Master of the Master Assassins, with the most knowledge and stuff, so he's tough on you...and I thought that you just came from Altaïr's office, since you told Adair to go see him..." he finished weakly.  
Webster scowled again, glancing away. "Look, a deadline just wasn't met, okay?"  
The group then became quiet, hardly moving aside from Edward cleaning drinking glasses.  
"I'll go and see him now, then," Adair said, excusing herself from the bar.


	8. Moving Forward

"Altaïr," Adair bowed her head upon entering his office. He was not wearing his traditional robes, which was rare. In fact, he was wearing modern clothing, something even more uncommon. She felt out of place, like she had overdressed or something.  
"Your actions today were uncalled for." Altaïr didn't even look to her.  
So, they weren't going to beat around the bush.  
"I understand this," Adair said.  
"To have the audacity to even question our punishment of Bellona was, in a way, unsolicited."  
"Yes, Master."  
"However," Altaïr, sighed. "I cannot punish you for it. I know I would have done the same in your situation."  
"Um, thank you."  
"Sit down."  
Adair found a chair and settled in it. Altaïr leaned on his desk, then finally looked her in the eye.  
"I was going to transfer Bellona to your team as your Backup. I renounce this," he held a hand up, knowing she would protest-"due to her actions. However, I found some promising recruits for your team today. I want you to evaluate them with me tomorrow."  
"Yes, sir."  
"One more thing."  
"Yes?"  
"How are you feeling?"  
Adair did not respond. So this was why he wanted her alone, without Thatcher. "You mean, since it's been..."  
"A year, yes."  
"I feel unforgiven."  
Altaïr nodded. "I understand. Truthfully, I was wondering whether or not you had coped any better."  
"This isn't something I can just forget, Altaïr."  
"Of course not." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I want you to wear your hidden blade tomorrow."  
"Altaïr, I can't do that."  
"Yes, you can. You must."  
"Why?"  
"Because you are an Assassin. A Runner, nonetheless." He gave her a commanding glare. "It is time to move forward. Not on, but forward. Do you understand?"  
Adair kept her eyes on his.  
"Adair."  
"Yes, Master."  
"You are dismissed."  
Adair left the room, tears in her eyes.


	9. Resurgence

The metal strap was cold and restraining, like a pair of shackles. Shackles indeed, chaining her down with her worst feelings. Anger, hatred, disgust, sadness, regret. How Altaïr thought this would be progressive, she didn't know.  
With the hidden blade on, she flicked her wrist and tested it out. The blade was responsive, all right, obeying without a second thought. Thoughts that might have needed more processing time the last instance she used it. Adair debated using her other blade on her right hand, but decided against it. She instead dressed in her overcoat and left her room hastily.  
The arena was mostly empty. Altaïr and the recruits were not there yet, but there were other Assassins. They were going through the freerunning course, seemingly as a race. Edward and Connor were in the middle of the course, and Ezio and Arno were just behind. It didn't take long for Connor to run along the rafters of the course, separating himself from the group. Edward responded by leaping onto the top of the obstacles, jumping to each one. Ezio and Arno swiftly moved on ground level, each trying to gain the upper hand.  
Adair approached them, watching as Connor completed the course first, followed by Arno, then Edward, and lastly, Ezio.  
"You're here early," Connor said to Adair. She nodded.  
"Altaïr wants me to choose a new recruit for the team. He said to meet him here."  
"Well, considering you have a reason to be here, I suppose we can't kick you out," Edward said.  
"You are wearing your blade," Arno noticed.  
"Yes, I am."  
"Leave her be," came another voice. Altaïr had entered the room, leading a group of recruits into the arena. "Come along, Adair."  
Adair followed the group, finding the other Assassins had come too.  
"We will now execute a stealth kill on these mannequins," Altaïr announced. He gestured to the other Assassins. Adair and the rest stood behind the dummies, and on Altaïr's word, plunged their blades into their backs. The recruits cringed, and Adair flinched as well. This wasn't too bad, she told herself. She could do this.  
"The objective is to perform your kill quietly and efficiently. Do so, now." Altaïr stepped aside as the recruits took their positions behind the mannequins. Once they finished, Altaïr drew their attention to Adair.  
"The Alpha Runner will now complete the freerunning course in under one minute," Altaïr announced, "completed by a stealth kill at the end."  
Adair took her position at the beginning of the course, then dashed off. She was not thinking about the course, instead she was lost in the blur around her. As she sped through, leaping over obstacles and ducking under rafters, there was only one thought in her head. The stealth kill. The one she hadn't performed in a year.  
The cold air rushed through her lungs, her vision centered on the test dummy just a few meters ahead. Adair wasn't sure if she could do this. Her steps faltered a bit, her breathing out of rhythm. But Altaïr was right. She was an Assassin, and she had a job to do. A feeling took over her, one that she hadn't experienced in a very long time. The sensation of being a predator, chasing prey. The thrill of the chase was invigorating, and she submit to her old self. This was her purpose.  
Adair, at the last second, diverted her direction and climbed up an obstacle block. She hadn't climbed in a while, either, but she used her momentum and hauled herself up. She ran across the top of the block, waiting for the mannequin to come into sight. The second it did, Adair inhaled sharply, lifted her left arm, triggered the blade, and leapt off the block.  
And there was Lyla, back toward Adair, standing in her normal position. But Adair was in flight, and could not stop. So, she grit her teeth in anticipation, and aimed her blade as precisely as she could. Adair crashed down onto the dummy, her hidden blade hitting its mark.  
"Rest in peace, my friend," Adair murmured, and lifted her head. She stood from the mannequin's body, rising to her full height. Lyla was dead and buried, now. Adair met the eyes of Altaïr, who nodded in approval. The recruits were wide-eyed, but stood firm. Adair pushed her hair back and strode over to the Assassins, who welcomed her into their ranks. Edward put a hand on her shoulder, bowing his head in acknowledgement.


	10. Evaluations

Lyla was laid to rest now, in Adair's conscious. She accepted that she had died, but...it didn't feel right. Something was wrong. She still blamed herself, except now it didn't inhibit her. She felt devoid of feeling, like she didn't care any more. Lyla was...expendable. Yes. That was how she felt toward her now. Just another victim of a-  
Thatcher swatted Adair's arm. "Pay attention!"  
"Hm?" Adair raised her head. She was supposed to be paying attention to the new recruits, demonstrating their skills as Backups, which involved freerunning, assassinations, and scouting. But her thoughts were too strong for her to pay attention. She tried her best, though, and watched as a young girl tried scaling a rather high obstacle wall.  
"I wouldn't even try doing that," Adair scowled.  
"She's still trying."  
"Dai tempo al tempo," A smooth voice sounded. Ezio Auditore seated himself next to Adair. "Give it time." Sure enough, the youth scrambled upward and continued her way.  
"She disrupted the flow," Adair argued. "If she were to try and save her Runner, she wouldn't make it in time."  
"True. Perhaps she would make a better Scout?" Ezio looked over to Thatcher. Thatcher just shrugged.  
"This next one looks promising," Ezio pointed to a tall boy at the beginning of the course. Jessica, the Gamma Scout, was running a timer, and just as the girl ahead finished, she restarted the clock. The boy dashed forward with notable speed, and scaled a wall to reach the rafters.  
"Descendant of Connor?" Thatcher asked.  
"So quick to judge, Thatch," Adair shook her head, smiling. "Hell, I run the rafters."  
"You're a Kenway," Thatcher muttered, and Adair snickered.  
"Watch closely," Ezio murmured. "He's changing his pace."  
Indeed, the kid was. Adair focused on his foot movement. He had a rhythm, but he strayed from it very quickly. His timing started to rush, like he had gained too much speed, something the inexperienced should never do on planks of wood suspended in the air. The boy wobbled, his footing on an approaching beam unreliable. With a short cry, the boy fell.  
"A shame," Adair said.  
"He was too ambitious. He can be trained to do otherwise," Thatcher stated in the boy's defense.  
"I'd say he could make a good runner." Adair turned to her left. "What are your predictions on this next one, Master Auditore?"  
"They are equals. All of them have the potential, it is just a matter of where they fit."  
"If you say so."  
"You laugh, I know," Ezio said as the timer beeped. "But it is one lesson out of hundreds that you only learn over time."  
"You should listen to the old man, Addy," Thatcher added. "He knows what he's talking about."  
"Just like how you take every word of Edward's seriously?"  
Thatcher smiled widely. "Pay attention."  
The new boy ran through the course on the ground, trying to remain quick rather than impress with fancy technique. However, as everyone knew, this was no easy task. Nothing was handed to you in the Brotherhood, with the exception of family and protection. And as Adair knew, neither of those exceptions applied to the freerunning course. It was littered with walls, obstacles and other barriers, trying to make you think outside the box, helping you formulate an escape plan. There was no right way to run, just an effective way.  
"Look at him go," Adair craned  
her neck to observe further. The guy could run, all right. Almost like he knew the course entirely. But then, like the one before, he got stuck. He had chosen the fork in the course that gave him a 30 foot wall to scale, with little to grapple on to and climb. He stood for a good ten seconds, then backed up, leaping onto the wall. Even from where they sat, the trio could hear his fingers scratch against the clay wall as he fell with no grip. Thatcher winced, understanding the pain.  
But he kept going, walling once more. They heard scuffling, then an abrupt gasp. Next thing they knew, the boy had climbed up the wall. Adair nodded her head slightly, eager to watch his next steps. Now, he ran along the top, jumping from each wall top. Finally, he reached his goal, and tackled the dummy from above, like how Adair did.  
"What was the name of that one?" Adair asked Ezio.  
"I do not know." Ezio said.  
"Adair, we're looking for a Backup, not a Runner," Thatcher reminded her. "I mean, yeah, we need to grade everyone, but don't decide just yet."  
"I think he's versatile, like a Backup should be," Adair replied firmly. "I want to see more from him."  
"Well, I think we should wait a bit more."  
"Sure, sure. But right now, I'm going to go introduce myself to him and offer him a position."  
"Adair-"  
"You know what Ezio said, Thatcher. This kid has potential, and I know where he fits." Adair stood and left.


	11. Endless Possibilities

Adair approached AltaÏr at the front of the course. "I liked that last kid's run. I wish to offer him a position."  
"On your team?"  
"For training."  
"I see." AltaÏr glanced away. "You may do so, but keep your eyes open for more."  
"Yes Master." Adair jogged away, over to the sidelines where the youth were. The kid was hard to find, as all the recruits wore the old traditional white robes. Fortunately, they all kept their hoods down, and Adair had some bit of an idea of what the kid looked like.  
"Um...who just ran?" She asked feebly, all eyes were on her. A kid looked upward and met her eyes.  
"Me, Master."  
"Come with me."  
The kid pushed through the crowd and fell into step beside her, trying not to disappoint. "Yes, Master...uh..."  
"I am not a Master Assassin," Adair told him. "You can call me Adair."  
"Yes, Adair."  
Adair inspected the kid. He looked like he was fifteen, very lanky and appeared to be uncertain of his surroundings. Was this really who just ran?  
"You did just run that course? Just a minute ago?"  
"Yes, ma'am."  
"You were the one who couldn't climb the wall?"  
"Uh...yes, ma'am."  
"And performed the air assassination?"  
"Y-yes, ma'am." He blushed, looking down.  
"How old are you, son?"  
"Eighteen, ma'am."  
"Really?"  
The kid glanced into her eyes. "...Seventeen. But nearly eighteen!"  
"That's all right, kid. It's all fine, I promise. There is no need to be afraid. Look at me," Adair spoke in a softer tone. The kid looked up, meeting her eyes and straightening his back. "What is your name?"  
"Sage," he replied. "Sage Walker. I've wanted to train as an Assassin my whole life."  
"Do you know of your lineage?"  
"My lineage?"  
"Your ancestry. Do you have a historic ancestor?"  
"The-the Auditore bloodline," Sage said.  
"Really?"  
"Y-yes, why?"  
"Would you like to meet him?"  
"Meet wh-who?"  
"Ezio Auditore."  
Sage paled. "He's here?"  
"Just over there, with my Scout."  
"I can really meet him?"  
"Yep." Adair patted Sage's back. "Don't worry, there's no need to be nervous or afraid."  
Sage nodded vigorously, and let Adair lead the way.  
Thatcher, meanwhile, sat next to Ezio, still analyzing the new recruits. The second he saw Adair return, he put a hand to his face. "She brought him back."  
"Let her do so," Ezio said calmly.  
Adair and Sage walked over, Adair giving Sage a gentle push forward. "Ezio, Thatcher, this is Sage. He's a descendant of the Auditore family."  
Ezio gazed fondly over to Sage, who awkwardly stuck out his hand. Ezio shook it and gave him a reassuring smile.  
"I'm Thatcher," Thatcher introduced himself, shaking hands with Sage. "I'm the Alpha team's Scout."  
"Are you interested in joining with us, Sage?" Ezio asked the boy.  
"Absolutely," Sage said. "I'll put forth whatever effort you need, it won't matter. I'll do it."  
"That is a good sign," Ezio looked to Thatcher, who tilted his head toward Adair.  
Adair, fed up with Thatcher's doubt, lifted her lip in a sneer. "I don't know why you're so upset. I'm just saying Sage has the potential. That doesn't mean I won't ever consider anyone else."  
"Oh," Sage looked downward.  
"Hey now, I didn't mean it like that," Adair glanced to Sage in reassurance. "You have a lot of abilities I'd like to see tested. I want someone to train you."  
"Adair, we are not looking for another Runner," Thatcher spoke through grit teeth. "I don't care how much of yourself you see in him, either. We need a Backup."  
"So what? You want me to ignore the possibilities this kid could open? Even if we don't need him here, or on our team, he's still got something, Thatcher." she crossed her arms. "And I am not doing this because I see something of me in him."  
Thatcher narrowed his eyes at her. "Fine," he growled. "I'll stay here and actually open up other options. You go show your prize off to Altaïr and get the kid trained."  
"Asshole," Adair spat. She turned and jerked her head to the side, indicating Sage to come with her. "Let's go."  
She led Sage to Connor, who was leaning by the door. "Where's Arno?" she asked.  
"I'm not sure," Connor replied. He idly looked up toward the ceiling of the arena, then returned his gaze to her. "What is it you need?"  
"I wanted him to prepare a training exercise for this recruit."  
"I'll do it," Connor offered. "Nothing better to do anyway. We'll have to wait for the recruits to finish, though."  
Well then, Adair thought. She wasn't going to walk back to the bench with Thatcher. Besides, she felt bad sending this poor, fragile kid back to the other recruits. So she nodded to Connor in agreement and slumped down the wall to the floor beside him, inviting Sage to do the same. And with that, Adair watched the other recruits perform the course.


End file.
